


Odd and Even Numbers: Four

by sophinisba



Series: Odd and Even Numbers [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, 69 (Sex Position), Hobbits, M/M, Pre-Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-14
Updated: 2007-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn and conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odd and Even Numbers: Four

**Author's Note:**

> A follow-up to One, Two, Three (but which can be read on its own), posted for Dana's birthday one year later.

The problem with going down on Frodo right now, Pippin decided, was that it would be difficult to keep an eye on his face. And seeing the look on Frodo's face when he woke up was, if not Pippin's only purpose, at least a major one. That was what made it important to do this now. So Pippin straddled Frodo's hips – Frodo was lying flat on his back, most likely dreaming of far-off lands and Elvish legends – and licked his hand. Once he had a hold on Frodo's prick he thought it rather less likely that the dream was about Elves, although come to think of it the Elves must get up to that sometimes – they couldn't _always_ be as staid and remote as they seemed in Bilbo's stories...

Pippin had never seen an Elf himself and he wondered what exactly they looked like, and wondered if they could ever be as lovely as Frodo when he slept, or if their skin could be as smooth, if any creature's cock could be as perfect as Frodo's in his hand.

"Just like that, Merry," Frodo breathed.

Pippin frowned, and squeezed a little harder then, dismissing thoughts of other creatures and concentrating only on touching Frodo, while Frodo moaned softly, bit his lip, pushed up with his hips – all of it still without opening his eyes.

Pippin, confident that his hands knew what they were about, leaned forward to get a better look at Frodo's face. Again, it was tempting to use his own mouth, to kiss his cousin awake, to suck or maybe bite at those beautiful, full lips, but he couldn't get _too_ close or he'd lose sight of the eyes, even now flickering with interest under the heavy lids of sleep.

Then Pippin eased his grip and slid his thumb very lightly over the slit, watching Frodo's eyes come open wide and shining at last, Frodo's mouth opening as well as he caught his breath, and for a moment everything was just as Pippin would have wanted, until Frodo realized what was going on and promptly frowned, glared. "Pip," he accused, pushing up with his elbows and scooting back out of Pippin's hands.

"Yes, dear?"

"I believe we've talked, on various occasions, about the importance of consent when hobbits are going to, er..."

"You've consented enough times already, love, and you _are_ lying naked in my bed, you  
know."

"I was _sleeping_ in _Merry's_ bed, and if you haven't had enough of the other already I think you ought to bring Merry back..."

"Merry's busy," said Pippin, "Off with his father somewhere, being an adult, I suppose. What's the problem, Frodo? Slowing down in your old age, are you? Can't keep up with the likes of Merry and me?"

"Don't be daft," Frodo said, smiling.

"_You're_ the one trying to wriggle your way out of a handjob."

Frodo's smile stretched as he sat up a little higher and gave Pippin a soft, languid kiss. "Nonsense," he said then. "I just wanted to be awake for it." He moved his hips up against Pippin's. "I assume you'll enjoy it more that way too."

"If you insist."

"Wake me up some more," said Frodo, and then they spent some minutes kissing, touching, shifting around each other on the bed. Pippin lost sight of Frodo's face again and again, but he didn't mind, since he always had something good to look at, and he liked having something good to feel as well.

Gradually Frodo's movements became more forceful, more urgent, and Pippin said, "I think you're awake enough now," and again grabbed Frodo's prick – with a much stronger hold this time than before.

Frodo thrust hard at once but then stopped himself. "Let go," he said.

Pippin held on. "What now?"

"Only that if I'm awake I should be able to...participate a bit more than that."

"I see, so hands aren't good enough for the likes of Frodo Baggins." He started stroking him again. "Not even _these_ hands."

With only a little hesitation, Frodo actually reached down and pried Pippin's hands away. "Good enough," he said, working his own fingers behind Pippin's balls and feeling his way back, "but we could do better."

Pippin found himself unable to argue for several moments, as Frodo gently teased along the cleft of his arse with one finger and at the lobe of his ear with teeth and tongue. He could only moan his agreement with what Frodo seemed to be suggesting.

"We're out of oil," said Frodo, still stroking him.

This was true. They'd used up rather a lot of it last night, celebrating Merry's birthday. Since Merry's coming of age was such a momentous occasion they'd decided to try a few new things in bed, and they'd needed particularly a lot of oil for that last bit, something they had never seriously believed would work until they were actually doing it. Frodo on his back, his arse perched at the edge of the bed and his legs pushed up so that Pippin could stand next to the bed and push _in_, even as Merry stood behind and pumped into Pippin, eventually controlling the movement of all three of them.

Merry'd been the one in charge physically, as tended to happen, although Frodo was as bossy as usual, and Pippin, well, Pippin thought he got the best deal out of all of them. The most contact, the most sensation, the unimaginable and barely believable feeling of fucking and being fucked at the same time, so close to both his cousins that they were actually joined, and Pippin was the one who was joining them.

Three of them together, that's how it had been, ever since that visit to Bag End when they'd fought and then made up, and then made up an arrangement of bodies that none of them had expected but all of them had enjoyed immensely.

It wasn't quite always three though, because Pippin and Merry saw each other when their families came together, while Frodo often stayed at home at Bag End. On the other hand, Merry, being older (but not yet _old_, by any means) was more independent than Pippin, freer to set off across the Shire just because he wanted to. And so he also made it to Bag End more often than Pippin did, even though Pippin lived a good deal closer.

Well, what all of this meant was that Merry, who was in between Frodo and Pippin in age, was also the one who got to have sex with whichever one of them he wanted, and more or less whenever he wanted, whereas Frodo and Pippin had never actually made love, just the two of them, unless one counted those occasions where Merry was in the room with them but decided he preferred to watch (and instruct).

Funny, then, now that this finally seemed to be happening (and it _would_ happen, with or without oil) that it was happening in Merry's bedroom.

"Do you know, Pippin, there's something I've always rather wanted to try, and I just didn't think it would be Merry's thing."

Pippin wasn't especially surprised to find, once they twisted around a little more, that the thing Frodo wanted to try was exactly the thing Pippin himself had in mind. It made sense, really, since Frodo and Pippin were both more agile and coordinated than Merry (who made up for it with his muscles and his endurance), and since they were about the same size and build, and since they both liked giving head almost as much as they liked getting it.

They both lay on their sides, Pippin's feet flexed against the headboard and Frodo's against the foot of the bed. And once they were in place Pippin didn't need words. He reached with his hands and opened up his mouth and took Frodo in. He expected the angle to be strange, and it was, but then again, the three of them had tried so many different positions that Pippin knew by now that unfamiliar didn't mean wrong. And Pippin thought –

Well, once Pippin felt Frodo's mouth on him he realized he'd been thinking far too much, and he could stop that now. All he needed was touch, the light touch of Frodo's fingers on the back of his thighs, the flesh of Frodo's buttocks in Pippin's hands as he squeezed and tugged him closer. Frodo's cock, hard and hardening in his mouth, pushing down on his tongue and toward the back of his throat. Frodo's blessed mouth touching him where he most wanted to be touched.

Pippin was the one who started thrusting. He couldn't help it. He heard Frodo give a little grunt and tried to make himself go still, afraid to hurt him. But then Frodo sucked harder, quickly, as if somehow wanting to communicate without words that it was all right. And just to make things perfectly clear, Frodo thrust into Pippin's mouth, and then he _knew_ it was all right. For a little while they seemed to take turns – each time Pippin would push a little harder, a little deeper, a little faster, and then he'd draw back and draw Frodo in. It was an awkward position and an awkward rhythm and it didn't last long. Neither of them could really take the other one in very deep, but the strangeness of it added to their excitement and soon enough both of them were pounding with very little notion of timing. Pippin felt the line of tension drawing from his belly down through his balls and if he'd had his mouth free he'd have said something to warn Frodo it was coming, but all he could do was grab him and suck at him and he thought Frodo understood, because his mouth went even softer even as his hands held Pippin's hips more firmly in place, so when Pippin pounded and shook and spilled Frodo was able to take it all with no trouble.

After that Pippin was so relaxed and contented that he expected to take Frodo's come with no trouble at all. He did nothing to prepare himself or to keep Frodo still, only opened deeper and wider and swallowed and swallowed and, in the end, choked a little. But as soon as he had his mouth free he was laughing, so Frodo laughed too, and Pippin crawled around until both of their heads were by the foot of the bed, and their legs tangled together at the head, and they kissed and laughed in the morning sunlight.

"I do love you, Pippin," said Frodo.

And Pippin's first instinct was to repeat it back to him, _I love you too, Frodo_, but he stopped himself, held the phrase back, because, though it was certainly true, it seemed too easy, too natural. And Frodo's words were not easy; they weren't expected. Pippin hummed a little as he used a finger to trace the path of a drop of sweat, down Frodo's neck and over his chest to his belly, and kissed it away, and then said, "I wasn't ever quite sure."

Frodo, surprised, sat up a bit, and Pippin watched the muscles shift and was glad, again, that they'd done this of a sunny morning, and not in the secret dark, because he loved looking at Frodo, though not as much as he loved touching and tasting him.

Frodo gently moved Pippin's head to him meet his eyes, and said, "Did you think I just wanted to jump your bones? Did you think I just wanted to have someone else flexible come and join me in bed?"

"It isn't..." Pippin began, and saw Frodo smile, and felt foolish for being so defensive; perhaps he was taking it all too seriously after all. "I always knew you cared for me," he said, "of course I knew that. But this –" and a glance down at the two of them, still naked in Merry's bed, still touching each other if no longer as urgently as before, a glance was enough to communicate what _this_ meant "–all started because _I_ wanted it. Well, and because I begged for it in the end."

"When you asked Merry for it."

"Yes, and Merry protested but I knew he wanted it, and you knew he did."

"Oh, Pippin."

"And I thought perhaps you'd just done it for his sake," Pippin finished in a small voice.

Frodo was silent for a moment, considering, then said, "First of all, no. You're wrong. Secondly, dear, I really don't understand. If it were just for Merry, just for you and Merry, I could simply have told the two of you to go ahead with it..."

"But he wouldn't have, Frodo. You know he'd have been too afraid to lose you." Pippin remembered that time all too well. When Merry had thought of it as a choice between Frodo and Pippin, that choice was clear.

"But why would...? There's no reason for you to think that, either one of you."

Pippin's felt an ache in his chest, so different from that old fear of losing Merry, but just as familiar by now, the possibility of Frodo leaving him and Merry alone. And this morning had started out so well! He certainly hadn't intended to have a serious talk like this.

"Well, I said, perhaps you're getting too old to keep up with us. Perhaps one of these days you'll decide you've had enough of sex, and you'll just leave it to Merry and me, hmmm?"

Pippin liked teasing Frodo about getting old because it so obviously wasn't a real concern. Why, Frodo looked no older today than when Pippin had been a child. But even that fact was a little unnerving to him when he thought to much about it. Pippin couldn't enjoy his own joke, for the idea of losing Frodo was too real and too frightening. It wasn't just a question of age, not a question of Frodo tiring of them or tiring of lovemaking. There was something else between them now, and Pippin became more aware of it with each passing year, even as physically they continued to be as close as three hobbits could. Frodo was keeping something from them.

Frodo took hold of Pippin's hand, lightly stroked his forearm, almost as if studying it. "When the three of us first got together, that was the first time for you, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"But you know that when Merry and I first got together, I'd been with other hobbits before."

"I know, and Merry..."

"Merry wasn't sure it was love then, and I didn't want him to be trapped, without having an idea of other ways it could be. With a lass, you know, or with someone his own age..."

"I know, Frodo. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want...because I'm not trying to pretend that it's been 'true love' every time I've made love to another hobbit. It's always been someone I cared for and someone I trusted, but not always.... But once Merry and I were together, and once he'd experimented and decided to come back to me and once we knew it really was love, I wouldn't have broken that, wouldn't have opened it up to anyone else without knowing already that it was love. And I knew that, with you. I'd known it since before you even started to look at Merry _or_ me, or Merry _and_ me, that way. It was just a question of waiting until you were ready, until you really knew what you wanted."

Pippin closed his eyes and thought about that, still enjoying the movement of Frodo's fingers on his skin. He'd known what he wanted for a very long time. He remembered the years when Frodo and Merry had seemed to ignore him as soon as night fell. He wanted to trust Frodo, but it was hard to believe that it had only been a question of waiting till Pippin was ready.

"You never sent me to go and experiment, with lads and lasses, you know."

"No, well, we figured you'd had plenty of time to try that while Merry and I were being exclusive."

"I could have," Pippin agreed.

"And perhaps you will someday," said Frodo.

Pippin had been trying to relax, but his eyes startled open then. Frodo was still moving as slowly as before, his face was just as calm. "It's good," said Pippin, wishing he could keep his voice as steady as Frodo's, "what we've had these last few years, the three of us, sharing."

"It's good, you're very right, and I wouldn't have it any other way, truly. But it might not always be this way, do you understand? And if...if things should change again, as they did when we stopped being two and became three, I wouldn't...I wouldn't want you to be angry, Pippin, at me or at Merry or at the world."

Pippin took arm away from Frodo and sat up straight with his hands on his hips, regretting that he couldn't look as stern as he'd like, still not wearing a stitch of clothing. "Have you got another lover, Frodo?"

"Oh, Pippin!"

"Are you planning to leave us?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm planning no such thing."

Which wasn't a satisfactory answer and they both knew it, but Pippin knew he wasn't going to get much better, not today, not just by asking. Whatever this thing was, this thing standing between them, it went deeper than words, and Pippin wouldn't get past it on his own.

"All right," said Pippin, "I suppose I can trust you."

"I should hope so."

"And I do love you too."

Merry, on the other hand, Merry had the right kind of cleverness for figuring this out. Loving, but not too trusting. Let Frodo think what he would, Merry and Pippin were a force to be reckoned with. There was no way he could keep both of them fooled.


End file.
